Saturday morning. Sun is shining, birds chirping and once again i'm laying next to Harlem Nites. This is becoming a problem. The more visits I make. The harder it will be to distance myself when I finally meet Mrs Slish. How did I end up here. I don't know Ya'll. All I can say is the worst kind of crack is the one between a woman's legs. You'll do and say just about anything to get it.
Friday afternoon I go to the pysche unit of my hospital. Why? CAUSE THATS WHAT I DO!!! Talk to crazy people all day and ask them all kinds of stupid questions they couldn't possible answer. Like where do you live ? They don't know THEY CRAZY!!!! and whom ever they were living with previously. Put them out and moved faaaar away. Why ? CAUSE THEY CRAZY!!!.
I'm walking through the ward trying to avoid any eye contact. You let that happen and its over for you. These deranged mutha f@#%&kas start asking you all kinds of silly shit. "Are you my daddy" "The devil speaks to me does he speak to you" "Can you get me out " The answer to all these questions. HELL NO!!!! HELLLLLL NO!!!!
I see my friend. The married woman from last week Friday. No she's not a patient. She works there. " Hey sexy " I say " Whats poppin" Maaaaan why do I open my mouth sometimes. MT3(mother of 3) thats what we'll call her for now. Goes into this whole Jerry Springer moment. Her husband is trying to justify getting another woman pregnant. Both daughters are physically fighting one another on a daily basis. The husband is saying everything is her fault. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Being the nice guy that I am. I nod and pretend i'm listening. Then I hear her say. " I wish I could find someone to be with. Might help me cope with things better" She looks at me as the tears start to well up in the corners of her eyes. Thats my cue GOTTA GO!!!! "Slish call me" she says I say "What for" "To talk" she says. "Hmmmmm i'll think about it " and kept it moving.
I leave work around 5pm . Drop off my coworker Oldschool, Go home, change into some sporty Slish wear and head downtown to my afterwork jump off.
Crowd seems light tonight. I think to myself. "I'll be drinking hennessy to keep my ass from getting depressed that this place is practically empty. Bartender hands me my drink Whew!! this shit is strong. I LIKE IT!!! Then I see this woman sitting by herself writing in a notebook & drinking a glass of straight hennessy no ice. That peaked my interest. I watch her for a while. Ya know the way most stalkers do. I make my move. " Are you a reporter?" I know that shit was corny but I was tipsy. She answers "No" . " food critic" she starts to smile and says "no". "You depressed. Writing in your little notebook before you kill yourself" The ice is broken she starts to laugh and I buy her another glass of hennessy.
The interregation starts. I find out she's an employed part time student living with a man she no longer wants to be with. Turns out she's waiting for someone. I ask "Your Man " she squinches up her face and says "no" "Who then." I ask "Some guy i've been seeing on and off behind my mans back". I think to myself this gal sounds like trouble but i'm a glutton for punishment and push on with the convo anyway. Backstabber starts to interrogate me now. When I tell her what my stats are 36, no kids, don't live with my mama & gainfully ermployed . The body language changes. I sense and opening and ask for her number. She gives me that are you hitting on me look . I say " Thats right i'm hitting on you now me give your number before your second boyfriend shows up" she laughs and gives me the digits. Mr Slish strikes again.
10:30 pm I leave my spot and head uptown to meet Harlem Nites at Mocha's. I get there about 11pm.
I'm inside now. I look around for my fix and spot her in the corner doing the Beyonce Booty Dance. I call Harlem Nites over to me & whisper in her ear " You are no longer allowed to watch MTV or Bet" she laughs. I ask " What time we leaving " She says why you horny and plants a wet one on me. Guess we're not leaving now. I sit down and continue to watch her shake her money maker. Then I notice " Harlem ain't got no ass". She turns around and I see her claim to my fame those ta's ta's . That last thought. Forgotten. We bounce and head to her place.
It just keeps calling me and calling me.
Friday afternoon I go to the pysche unit of my hospital. Why? CAUSE THATS WHAT I DO!!! Talk to crazy people all day and ask them all kinds of stupid questions they couldn't possible answer. Like where do you live ? They don't know THEY CRAZY!!!! and whom ever they were living with previously. Put them out and moved faaaar away. Why ? CAUSE THEY CRAZY!!!.
I'm walking through the ward trying to avoid any eye contact. You let that happen and its over for you. These deranged mutha f@#%&kas start asking you all kinds of silly shit. "Are you my daddy" "The devil speaks to me does he speak to you" "Can you get me out " The answer to all these questions. HELL NO!!!! HELLLLLL NO!!!!
I see my friend. The married woman from last week Friday. No she's not a patient. She works there. " Hey sexy " I say " Whats poppin" Maaaaan why do I open my mouth sometimes. MT3(mother of 3) thats what we'll call her for now. Goes into this whole Jerry Springer moment. Her husband is trying to justify getting another woman pregnant. Both daughters are physically fighting one another on a daily basis. The husband is saying everything is her fault. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Being the nice guy that I am. I nod and pretend i'm listening. Then I hear her say. " I wish I could find someone to be with. Might help me cope with things better" She looks at me as the tears start to well up in the corners of her eyes. Thats my cue GOTTA GO!!!! "Slish call me" she says I say "What for" "To talk" she says. "Hmmmmm i'll think about it " and kept it moving.
I leave work around 5pm . Drop off my coworker Oldschool, Go home, change into some sporty Slish wear and head downtown to my afterwork jump off.
Crowd seems light tonight. I think to myself. "I'll be drinking hennessy to keep my ass from getting depressed that this place is practically empty. Bartender hands me my drink Whew!! this shit is strong. I LIKE IT!!! Then I see this woman sitting by herself writing in a notebook & drinking a glass of straight hennessy no ice. That peaked my interest. I watch her for a while. Ya know the way most stalkers do. I make my move. " Are you a reporter?" I know that shit was corny but I was tipsy. She answers "No" . " food critic" she starts to smile and says "no". "You depressed. Writing in your little notebook before you kill yourself" The ice is broken she starts to laugh and I buy her another glass of hennessy.
The interregation starts. I find out she's an employed part time student living with a man she no longer wants to be with. Turns out she's waiting for someone. I ask "Your Man " she squinches up her face and says "no" "Who then." I ask "Some guy i've been seeing on and off behind my mans back". I think to myself this gal sounds like trouble but i'm a glutton for punishment and push on with the convo anyway. Backstabber starts to interrogate me now. When I tell her what my stats are 36, no kids, don't live with my mama & gainfully ermployed . The body language changes. I sense and opening and ask for her number. She gives me that are you hitting on me look . I say " Thats right i'm hitting on you now me give your number before your second boyfriend shows up" she laughs and gives me the digits. Mr Slish strikes again.
10:30 pm I leave my spot and head uptown to meet Harlem Nites at Mocha's. I get there about 11pm.
I'm inside now. I look around for my fix and spot her in the corner doing the Beyonce Booty Dance. I call Harlem Nites over to me & whisper in her ear " You are no longer allowed to watch MTV or Bet" she laughs. I ask " What time we leaving " She says why you horny and plants a wet one on me. Guess we're not leaving now. I sit down and continue to watch her shake her money maker. Then I notice " Harlem ain't got no ass". She turns around and I see her claim to my fame those ta's ta's . That last thought. Forgotten. We bounce and head to her place.
It just keeps calling me and calling me.
posted by Mr.Slish at
7/09/2005 03:36:00 PM
2 Comments:
I just don't get it. MT3 is probably ready to throw the panties to Slish and I betcha he won't even touch it. What's wrong Slish you're not up for a game of "Scratch and Sniff". Nothing is going to happen with the Backstabber. Stop wasting your time. There is nothing better than a nice round onion on a woman. Ta ta's can be bought but an ass is a thing of beauty to be appreciated for years like fine art.
You drinking my drink now Slish? Please don't hurt yourself drinking that Hennessy! LOL.
Anyway, There is nothing wrong with you & Harlem Nites enjoying each others company as long as both of you stay adult about it. Be upfront and honest, if/when things change, don't lie about it just to keep the physical going.
Oh yeah, I'm proud of you, that was real smooth the way you approached the lady at the bar. You're finally learning after all my years teaching you....LOL.
Peace, Blessings & GrantLove..
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